Shop Til You Drop

I don't think men can possibly understand the relationship between women and shopping. There are those moments of pure bliss, where everything aligns and your hands are gripping the handles of as many shopping bags as possible and its euphoric. And then, there are those other moments. Those moments that you are in a dressing room and you stare at your mirror reflection in utter defeat and try not to cry.

As a chunky little girl, I had those moments a lot. It was very frustrating to argue with my mother to let me try on the little miniskirts while she told me, quite plainly, "Little girls your size shouldn't wear these." I would insist, please, please let me try it on. Who knows? Maybe we were both misunderstanding my size and it would look cute! Sometimes I would eventually win the chance to try something on, and prance out in delight while my mother stared at me and shook her head no sadly.

As a teenager, I stopped caring. In a way to avoid the entire ordeal, I piled on tshirts stolen from my grandfather (a big and tall burly man who wore a 3x or 4x) and mens' carpenter jeans from Goodwill. My mother would sigh unhappily because I obviously "didn't know that I was a girl". The biggest brawl came about over my junior prom dress.

My mom had not attended her own prom. I didn't care about mine. I didn't want anything strapless. I didn't want anything that would show any pudge whatsoever. In desperate attempts, I suggested to my mother: "How about a mini skirt and a Hawaiian shirt? How about a tuxedo?" She shook her head, insisting that she was trying to make sure I didn't wear something I would regret. Dress shopping took weeks. Weeks of, "Hey mom, this is alright." "But Brandi, it's not prom material."

Finally, we found a dress that fit and was in our price range. It was strapless. It was beaded and embroidered and everything else I had said I didn't want. Dejected, I rolled my eyes. "Sure. This will work." If my mom had paid attention, she would have realized that what I was really saying was, "I don't care anymore; I just want to quit shopping!" I wore it to junior prom but was so happy to store it in my closet at the end of the night and never get it out again.

This experience came to mind when I went shoe shopping a couple of weeks ago. I have a nice event coming up and wanted some shoes. Sadly, I wear an 11 and a half. Wide width. Walmart carries up to a size 9. Target doesn't carry wide width at all. So, I on a student budget had to desperately try various stores looking for something in my budget in my size.

Once again, I had many moments where I felt utterly defeated.

Until a couple of nights ago. I discovered eBay shoes.

If you enter the search criteria of 11 and a half or 12, wide width and extra wide width, over 2,00 results appear. 2,000 results that a girl can sort by price. Consider it my own personal sense of heaven. I can spend eight bucks, including shipping, on a pair of stylish black ankle boots if I so desire. I never imagined being able to afford such stylish shoes on the off chance I ever found them in my size. And, if I'm unhappy, I ship them back. Or repost and resell on eBay.

And my senior prom? I decided I refused to wear a dress I didn't love again. So that satin prom dress stayed in its closet and I ended up wearing a $12 white Marilyn Monroe costume I found at a thrift store to my senior prom.

At the end of the girl, a girl's gotta feel good with the choices she makes. Especially with her own money. And thanks to eBay shoes, I may begin to feel less self conscience about my feet for the first time in a very long time.